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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29315298">Dolls Still Bleed Cotton</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaibee/pseuds/mermaibee'>mermaibee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, 第五人格 | Identity V (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Identity V, Blood and Violence, Dark, Dream team but they’re still idiots, Gen, George press x for doubt, George-centric, I really like all the IDV hunters so they’re staying here, Manipulation, Survival Horror, You wish they had button eyes. But they dONT, dream is still a simp in this one, everyone else is mcyt, i canNOT do this tagging thing, i really tried to be descriptive AF your honor, maybe ooc??, no beta we die like george in manhunt, will this have romance?? God pls let me know</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:15:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,536</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29315298</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaibee/pseuds/mermaibee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>George’s world only consisted of the eroding manor and the hunts. It’s inhabitants forced alongside him to endure deadly trials, reliving death again and again by the hand of the Hunters. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there, he’s gotten used to the horrifying routine with no reward. </p>
<p>But someone new arrived at the manor.</p>
<p>And “new” is never a good thing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Pls. If I need a tag, let me know. If y’all is confused with my writing, call me out. Constructive criticism is delish.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Deep breaths. Finish this, one step closer to the manor. Focus.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">That’s the mantra George kept repeating as he focused his attention into finishing the cypher machine in front of him. The beeping noise coming from the oversized type writer only addingto the pressure surrounding him. His head felt warm, a drop of sweat sliding down his forehead even though the air was freezing. His typing was meticulous and precise, making sure that he wouldn’t mistype the code order. After all, it would be embarrassing if he did, since he was </span>
  <span class="s3"><strong>The Technician</strong>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Chancing a quick glance behind him, he resumed his typing when confirming he was still alone.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Not good. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The trial had been dead silent so far and that was more terrifying than the sounds of screams. He would’ve expected one of the other 3 survivors to have shown up by now to aid him, whoever they were. The snow at his feet crunched with his impatient fidgeting. The silence was suffocating. Not even a single rat to rustle in the dead grass or a crow screeching. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Picking up in speed, George noticed the cypher was almost fixed. If the others weren’t getting hunted, they should be close to finishing their own machines in a few minutes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">But being who I am, no one can match my decoding speed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">98% completed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The sound of the highlight lamp above his cypher switched on in completion, signaling anyone in the vicinity of his location. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">With the first of the five cypher machines fixed,George silently crouched away from the cypher. He silently hoped that the Hunter couldn’t teleport to his location. Being the tech of the group, he unfortunately had the worst flaw of them all in a hunt. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">George was the slowest of the lot. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Sliding behind a pile of miscellaneous boxes, George pulled out radio in his pant pocket. He clicked a predetermined message to the rest of the team:</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Cypher finished.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Glancing around, George’s anxiety creeped heavier in his mind. There should’ve been another cypher finished by this time. He was he fastest but he wasn’t that fast. He just made less mistakes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">A scratch coming from the radio startled him as he received a transmission from a member. The boy held his breath, reading the message:</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“The Hunter is near me!”.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He paled, as his blood became frozen ice. Naturally with his bad luck, his other teammate just had to have shown up right after he finished his machine, bringing the Hunter along with them. Quieting his breathing, George heard the soft sound of humming seeming to come from right behind his hiding spot. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Of course, it just had to be the Queen. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Knowing that hiding wasn’t an option anymore, George jumped up and forced his legs to sprint away from the morbid tune. Distance was the only way to outlast this Hunter. His lungs forcing frigid air into his chest as he ran into a man made maze to hopefully slow the Queen down if she was pursuing him. She couldn’t have seen him since she had her focus on another survivor, right?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">George winced as he kept running. He did not want a repeat session with Bloody Mary. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’ve found you ~!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Well, fuck me</span>
    <span class="s2">. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Blurry memories forced their way into George’s mind. He heard her singsong voice mingled with violent coughing, adding to his fear. Her neck might’ve been broken again meaning the Queen was livid. Someone must’ve slammed a pallet onto her head. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Jagged lines, filled with blood. It’s so dark. Black. So, so much blood. Drowning in the blood</span>
    <span class="s2">. </span>
    <span class="s1">Make it stop</span>
    <span class="s2">. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Panic flooded his system. George couldn’t let her catch him again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It had been so many trials since the last time they met, but each time was more traumatic than the last. Nothing, however, could ever compare to the first death. Their introductory meeting had the Queen instantly growing a hatred of George, specifically his neck. George had no idea what it was, maybe the fact that his tee shirt didn’t hide his whole white complexion contrasting perfectly with his dark hair. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“This is outrageous! You can not be more fair than I, you insignificant cur!! HOW DARE YOU!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">George just wished he could’ve never existed after that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He had later been informed by his teammates that his neck had been tore out and his face mauled beyond recognition. They had never in their time of arriving at the manor, seen such a mortifying scene. Usually the Queen killed you with a quick stab to the heart and left you to swim in your own blood. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">But how could he have know that, he only knew he didn’t die fast enough to avoid the nerve-frying pain she had inflicted on him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">George was in a frenzy now. The humming seemed to have surrounded him completely. He whipped his head in every direction, the world blurring as he tried to find someone to run to, somewhere to get away. His breathing was ragged and painful. George knew he was low on stamina and his legs were getting heavier.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Startling, he heard the sudden but unmistakable sound of another finished cypher machine. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Before he could think to run towards it, a giant mirror broke out of the ground, forcing him to crash painfully into it. The wind was knocked right out of him just as a mirror image of Mary herself appeared out of its surface and aggressively shoved him to the ground. Dizzy from the fall, George heard a church bell ring twice, disorientating him further. He could make out the Queen stepping out of the mirror, her elegant, muddy red dress standing out like a blemish amongst the snow filled scenery. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, what a coincidence to bump into you, rat. It is so irritatingly painful to see you again. It has been far too long since our last meeting!” Mary sneered as she glared him down, her hand lovingly caressing the long glass shard in her hand. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">George backed up as fast as he could but couldn’t avoid the sharp red heel stomping onto his stomach. Hunters were always faster than survivors so he wasn’t too surprised being caught. He really wished he hadn’t though. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">George flailed his body as the pain zipped through his entire nervous system. He knew this was nothing in comparison to what the Queen would do to him next. That thought being enough motivation to begin struggling harder against her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">But maybe if he stalled, someone could save him. Maybe she’ll be nice and might just strap him to a rocket chair and have him sent back to the manor. Maybe he might be lucky?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Please, leave me alone! I’ve never done anything to to you!” George pleaded, trying to buy time. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">George screamed in pain as the Bloody Queen pressed harder into his stomach, rage filling her already hate filled face. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Know your place, disgusting whelp!” The Queen screeched as she aimed her shard at George’s unmarred neck. “You are such an imperfection! Such filth that can not even address a Queen properly! A quick death will never be deserving for you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Well. There goes that plan. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The Queen was a flash of unbridled fury as she raised her broken glass above her head andviolently brought it down at George’s face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Tightly closing his eyes, George could only bring his arms up to cover what he could. He knew it was over. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">What he didn’t expect to hear was the sound of a quick slice.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> A soft thump.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What the hell?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Get up, before she does.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Opening his eyes, he lowered his arms to find a crudely drawn smiley face staring down at him. A man with a white mask and ugly yellow hoodie stood next to a decapitated Mary, body splayed next to his feet. Her red dress blending in with the blood seeping out of her severed head. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">George scanned the scene in front of him. He couldn’t believe it. Bringing his attention back to the standing man, the axe in his hand did not go unnoticed by George’s assessment of the tall person. George inhaled sharply as he watched the blood on the weapon drip onto the dirt. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">This guy just sliced a Hunter’s head off!</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Seemingly too slow for him, the man grabbed George’s upper arm and hauled him effortlessly to his feet. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Get those cyphers done. Now. I’ll distract.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">There was no room for argument, just a final command. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">George could only stare. Especially since he was actually lucky this time around. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You’re in a trial!” George said in disbelief. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The man ignored him, pulling out his own radio and clicking a message. George flinched as his radio let out another scratch alerting him of a message. His heart stopped. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He was dead sure no one had ever seen this before. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Eliminated.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The moonlight was eerie as per usual, shining though the ceiling windows onto the tattered and stained carpet of the living area. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George shivered, inching his body closer to the flames in the fireplace. Bringing his shaking fingers to his mouth, he could only blow hot air to try to bring the circulation back to his hands. Glancing from his place on the floor, he tilted his head back to look at his closest friend in the mansion. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sapnap, get closer to the fire, you need it since you came from the snow.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy jolted, spooked out of his light doze on the couch. His black hair in disarray, showing glimpses of the white headband he always wore. With sleepy eyes, he scrunched up his nose at George, clearly unhappy with being startled. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gogy, I just came from a trial and you’re so needy that you can’t even let me close my eyes? Do you seriously wanna cuddle that bad?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George scoffed, the white clout goggles on his head almost sliding off. He turned quickly, averting his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, shut UP!” George pleaded, dragging his hands down his face. His accent heavy as he spoke affronted. “I was just trying to be nice to you since you died in your trial but now I take it back! I don’t care! Freeze for all I care!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A laugh burst out of Sapnap as he sat up and stood to sit next to George.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Aww, Gogy! Don’t be mean. I’ll be nice back and cuddle you! Also, last trial we won! Because of me, everyone else lived! You should definitely be proud of me but instead you’re being so, so meeean,” he joked as he bumped his shoulder into George’s, attempting to lighten his mood. “I also bet I can find a way to avoid that death next time.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George pouted and looked down. Sapnap was a real hero. There was a reason that his role was </span>
  <span class="s2">The Martyr</span>
  <span class="s1">. His best friend always wanted to help and find new ways to survive in the hunts but he usually ended up dying the most out of them all. But George hated talking about the trials. He hated that they were all stuck in this foreboding mansion, the doors and windows leading to freedom sealed shut and unbreakable. Being forced into daily trials that tested their survival capabilities and skill sets against supernatural Hunters. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sapnap, noticing George’s damp mood, tried to uplift the pessimistic boy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anyways, I hope we get a trial together soo-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">DING! DING! DING!</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George and Sapnap froze. Their eyes flew to each other’s in trepidation. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Three bell rings. That only meant one thing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A newcomer. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sapnap bolted up, all traces of fatigue leaving his form as he made his way to exit the living room. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“George, get up. We need to see who it is,” Sapnap said as he urged George with a nod to follow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George felt a rush of hope fill his heart as he remembered that a new person meant that the doors open. That hope was quickly snuffed out as Sapnap left the room. The doors that lead in only allow one. You can’t leave once you set foot on the manor grounds. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a heavy heart, George made his way out into the hallway that lead to the dining room. With a new person, George thought, the survival rate goes up due to their new skill set. Hopefully, this would be good. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Caught up in his thoughts, George didn’t hear a hallway door open alongside the patter of hurried feet. He was thrown out of his pondering abruptly when two young boys ran excitedly past him. A small boy with warm brown hair and a round face turned around and smiled at George. The other boy stopping his sprint to avoid pulling the small boy’s arm off. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“George! Sorry we bumped into you but did you hear the bells? We have a new teammate!” The boy spoke with pure excitement. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tubbo, hurry the fuck up, of course he heard the damn bells! Who didn’t?? C’mon, we don’t have all fucking day! We are gonna miss being the first to meet them!!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George raised a brow at their excitement as they ran off with a mission on their minds. Of course, Tommy and Tubbo would be ecstatic for a change in atmosphere at the manor. The two were always finding ways to cause mayhem in the manor so George thought this newcomer would be a good change in target for the troublemakers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Letting out a sigh, George figured that his slow paced walk was enough stalling. He picked up the speed and made it to the end of the hallway and stepped into the dining room. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Entering the old room was always uncomfortable. The tiled floor was covered in a thick layer of dust and the long table in the center of the room was covered with a torn and dirtied tablecloth, a few lit candles on the surface. The room’s ceilings were tall and the space was huge, causing the voices in the room to echo obnoxiously. Some of the ceiling windows were broken open, letting in the permanent cold draft that resided in the manor’s entirety. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George hated it here. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wrapping his arms around himself, he made his way towards the crowd at the head of the table. All newcomers instinctively sit there when they first arrive to the manor. George recalled his first day sitting in that same chair. Philza and Techno had been the first ones to meet him and brief him on the rules of the manor. They weren’t happy to see him. They just seemed relieved. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George had just come here for a job interview out of desperation. Who would’ve thought replying to that mysterious letter and stepping into the manor’s gates sealed his permanent imprisonment?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shaking his memories out of his head, he pulled the goggles off his head, sliding them onto his eyes. He tried to catch a glimpse of the new person surrounded by his other teammates. He moved to the side, noticing Sapnap and another person named Wilbur in front of him, trying to push Tommy and Tubbo away from practically jumping on the table.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Moving closer to the table, George was able to make out a trace of yellow behind the other group members that were leaning in. The chatter seemed to raise as he heard a wheezing laugh, loud and bright, overpowering all the other speakers in the room. George looked up in surprise as the table rattled as someone stood at the table head.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man was tall. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had dirty blond hair that looked naturally messy with a warm skin tone. He wore a nauseating colored hoodie and jeans with what seemed like a backpack strapped to his back. The stranger carried what looked like a sword on his hip and another weapon on his back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s3">Is that a fishing rod?!</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s3">The room abruptly quieted as the newcomer lifted his hand. He let out a chuckle and gave an award winning smile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s3">“You all can call me Dream.”<br/><br/></span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s3">Dream had become an enigma to George as each day passed with the newcomer. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s3">No one had ever won over almost everyone in the mansion so fast before. Tommy immediately named Dream his rival after finding out his competitiveness. Quackity warmed up quickly after finding out the guy was funny. Sam was won over with his intellect and curiosity on machinery and Sam’s inventions. Hell, even Punz had gotten buddy buddy with him and no one knew why!</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s3">This guy was perfect and George was wary. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s3">Especially since it had been two weeks, and the newcomer had yet to go into a trial. That meant no one knew his skill set. Those he mingled with were astonished to find out that he caught on fast, mimicking their skills when presented or shared. He was always persuasive and ready to ask about new information. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s3">And he was good at it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s3">This should’ve made George happy, after all, someone who had multiple skill sets was an advantage! The manor didn’t have anyone like that. But it was still a mystery. An underlying tension and uncertainty in everyone’s thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s3">He was </span>
  <span class="s5">The Unknown</span>
  <span class="s3"> to the group, no matter his sunny attitude and charming smiles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George had yet to interact willingly with the newcomer. Promptly leaving the room if he was in it or taking the farthest corner in the room to hide. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George was currently in the library, tucked away in a corner nook, writing. The shelves were filled with diaries of what George assumed were past survivors of the manor. He and everyone else in the manor had diaries as well. Each person, almost instinctively, wrote in their diaries. It was an unspoken rule that we couldn’t miss a day without writing in it, no matter how small the entry may be. Rumors of survivors slowly going insane the longer they avoided writing scared anyone into purposely avoiding writing a diary entry. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey George!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George jumped in his spot, a squeak almost leaving his throat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sapnap! You scared the hell out of me!” George all but screamed, trying to get his heartbeat back to normal. “What took you so long to get here?!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sapnap cackled knowing he spooked his friend. George stared deadpan at his face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My bad! Dream was talking with me about stuff. Got distracted!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George grimaced. Apparently Dream had wormed his way to idiot Sapnap. He was way too friendly and Sapnap made friends way too easy. George bit his lip in contemplation. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sapnap furrowed his brows, plopping down next to George. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright. Tell me what’s up, man. You’ve been way more moody than you usually are,” Sapnap raised a brow at him, looking him in the eye. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George closed his diary with a sigh. Time to retell everything he wrote in his diary just now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, Nick, hear me out.. This is going to sound bad..” George grumbled. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sapnap sat up straighter. “Okay, we’re using real names now. This must be bothering you a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George glared at Sapnap, silently telling him to be quiet. George took a silent breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think the newcomer is bad news.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sapnap’s automatically replied with a deflated look and an intelligent “huh?”.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George responded with a smack to his head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“George! What the fuck?!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You thought that I was stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t even say anything!!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George rolled his eyes and huffed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, anyways, shut up and listen. This dream guy is shady. There’s something wrong with him! He’s fitting in too well with everyone!! I think I even saw him actually having a civil conversation with Techno recently!!! That doesn’t happen, especially with a stranger!” George waved animatedly, “And he hasn’t been in a trial yet and it’s been how many days? All of us didn’t even get more than 2 days before being thrown in a trial!!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sapnap leaned back, wide eyes showing his new uncertainty towards the situation. George could believe that Sapnap failed to think about that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Haha..” Sapnap chuckled nervously, “Aren’t you overthinking this a bit, Gogy? You seem a bit obsessed if you ask me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George balked at his friend. Was he being serious? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Really, Sapnap?! This is serious and you are ignoring it!” George was fuming now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gogy, calm down, I think I can vouch for this guy,” he said placatingly, “So far, I’ve been hearing and seeing his interactions with everyone and he seems really genuine. Maybe you’re just jumping the gun here?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George looked down stubbornly. He couldn’t just ignore his gut feeling when it told him something bad was afoot! Looking up, he caught Sapnap’s eyes shifting away towards the door. A pit of dread welled up in his chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nick?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sapnap looked down, sighing and glancing up to see George. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ya know, he keeps asking about you? You’re the only person he hasn’t gotten to introduce himself to.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“... And how do you know that, Sapnap?” George asked, wariness abundant in his tone.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George didn’t get an answer from his best friend, instead the library door opening caught their attention. At the door, the man of the hour stood tall, confidence oozing off of him in waves. Dazzling smile seeming to blind George. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello George, sorry to interrupt, but it’s wonderful to finally meet you.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Congrats. You made it to the end of the chapter. </p>
<p>I hope that was legible.</p>
<p>Hit me up on Tumblr: mermaibee</p>
<p>Thanks. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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